Project Manage a Cancer Diagnosis
There’s no right or wrong way to do cancer.
The aftermath of a diagnosis is similar to the aftermath of a natural disaster: you’re whirling in a buffering state of wondering what’s happening, people from all seasons of your life are showing up figuratively and literally, and if we’re being honest you don’t even know how insurance works. Okay, the latter is really on just me not being great at adulting.
For what it’s worth I’m an enneagram 5, a type-A planner, and logistics coordination gives me a sense of control and calm when life spins too quickly. If you identify with this statement, the following playbook could be handy if you recently heard the line, “well, it’s cancer.”
This is exactly how I would have handled the first week after a diagnosis knowing what I know now … especially if I wasn’t also learning how to mom and was cleared to drive. You know, because of that major surgery (c-section).
If you’re not type A. Exit this post. Seriously. Don’t bring on any unnecessary anxiety.
Phase One: The Foundation
Schedule an eyebrow microblading appointment. Medical procedures are off the table when chemo hits your veins, and if we’re being honest because that’s why you’re here drawing on eyebrows was hard, losing my reflection was hard, and I wished everyday I would have known to do this.
Schedule a teeth cleaning. Use the cancer card if you have to, but when chemo starts you’ll be advised to hang up your floss and your electric toothbrush.
Create a new email address. This is your cancer email. Use for MyChart logins, appointment reminders, doctor communication, and receipts.
Track your mileage. I use MileIQ, but any mileage tracker will work. IRS.gov confirms 2021 medical miles are $.16/mile.
Create a family calendar. This is your family bible now. Everything for everyone goes here - not just you. This will allow you to collaborate with your husband (or wife) on things where you usually take the lead and it’s helpful when coordinating helpers. Things you can add to your calendar:
Everyone’s doctor appointments
Monthly bill reminders
When you’ll have guests
“Chemo crash days.”
Make all the appointments. Get the oil changed, take the dog to the groomer, do whatever is on your list before your counts crash.
Phase Two: House Management
This is exactly the time to ensure your house is operating like a business. Streamline everything you can streamline and create processes where possible. This is going to come in clutch if/when you have a surprise medical anything and are on the sidelines. It takes it off your plate and allows you to focus on slayin’ cancer.
Deep clean your house. Maybe it’s because we were all a little lost with a diagnosis and a newborn, but my mom and aunt went to work deep cleaning our house. In hindsight, starting with a clean slate was a gift.
Sign up for Cleaning for a Reason, which is free housecleaning for cancer slayers during chemo.
Autoship
Chewy delivers pet food, treats, accessories and prescriptions to your door.
Grove will slide onto your doorstep with monthly cleaning supplies.
Budget with an app like You Need a Budget.
Create the family binder. Honestly, this deserves a post of its own, but create a binder with birth certificates, passports, vehicle information, etc.
Use a secure-app like LastPass to store and share your passwords.
Phase Three: Communications
Identify your PR manager. We all have that one person. The buttoned-up, on-top-of-it Sally. This person is your bouncer now when you’re unable - or simply don’t want to do so.
Create a private, unsearchable Facebook group or choose an app like Voxer or GroupMe for close-family and close-friend communication. You are the captain of this ship. You get to decide who is or is not privy to your personal medical happenings. I happen to be from a very large family and this allowed me to update everyone at once without putting it out there for everyone to see.
Phase Four: Help the Helpers
When that chemo brain fog hits it’s going to make “mom brain” look like a joke, so you can imagine when someone says “let me know what I can do to help” and you know they want to help and you want them to help, but thinking of what they can actually do to help can be exhausting.
Make it easier with lists and hang them front-and-center on the fridge. A few ideas:
Do the laundry.
Take the trash out on Friday mornings.
Sweep the kitchen floor.
… you get the idea.
Use painters tape to label drawers. I know this sounds silly, but if you’re lucky enough to have a few helpers there’s going to be a day when you can’t find that thing you’re looking for simply because someone did their best to put it in its place and they didn’t want to bother you while you were passed out on the couch. A simple “pajamas” label on the appropriate drawer will do wonders.
Phase Five: Slay the Beast
Really, it doesn’t matter if you don’t have formula on autoship. What matters is that you focus your energy on showing up every day to slay the beast that is cancer.
If this list gives you a sense of control when your entire world feels like it’s crumbling, good. If knowing someone else walked this path before you gives you a bit of hope, great.
Bottom line: I wish I could do more. I wish I could take your diagnosis from you.
Cheering for you, sis.
